


Ocean

by Ghelik



Series: The 100 Fics [76]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Possession, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Possession, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-22 23:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19138801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghelik/pseuds/Ghelik
Summary: Spacekru, with the help of Jackson, finds a way of reversing the Primes' possession and bring back Bellamy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this was something that happened because of the discrod. So in a way, it's all bechokru's fault. I regret nothing

Bellamy has never seen a stormy sea: waves tall as tree slamming onto the breakwater. He has never heard the howling winds, felt the icy jab of razor-sharp raindrops. He has never swum against the current, fought its unbreakable grip, been tossed around like a broken doll. He has never felt the disorientation of being turned head over heels over and over, of tumbling around the vast, cold darkness, lungs aching for a breath of air. He has never felt the weight of the ocean pressing him down, keeping him away from the surface. He has never opened his eyes in those dark, murky waters to discover the terrifying blackness.

If he had, he might have been able to describe the nightmare his life has become.

Most of the time he’s swimming in darkness, unsure if he’s moving towards the surface or deeper into the crushing nothingness.

Every now and then he sees the light, far away and blurry. Desperate to reach it, he tosses and kicks and fights his way towards it, but he never manages to pierce the surface. As if looking through a murky window, he sees Murphy and Emori whispering in the cantina, a small gold-plated handgun, the primes talking to Abby, a vast library Josephine smiling dangerously with Clarke's lips. Raven raising her glass in acknowledgment.

 _Help me!_ He wants to scream _Please!_

But no he has not enough air in his lungs to scream, no sound comes out of his mouth and, before he knows it, a new wave has torn him away from the light. The rushing in his ears deafening, he tumbles around in the darkness in asphyxiating silence.

From time to time, he hears voices: muffled and indistinct. Bellamy catches a few of the tantalizing words, but can't decipher where they're coming from.

 _Ai hod._ Saving lives. Us. Fight against extinction…

Murphy was right: this is Hell.

Sometimes he thinks about not fighting anymore, let the current drag him down. Maybe he could finally rest. Yet something makes him keep fighting, desperate and in agony. So he swims, lost and bone-tired until he sees the light once again.

Through the glass that keeps him trapped he sees his hand on Raven’s shoulder, a long table laden with exquisite food, Murphy’s cocky smile wavering ever so slightly, Echo changing into her nightgown, his hand tying his shoes, Madi limping out of the crypt.

“Niron?” He will recognize everywhere.

_ECHO! GET ME OUT, PLEASE!_

He scratches at the surface, unable to pierce it, to take hold. The current pulls at him, dragging him away from the light.

The last thing he sees before he goes under are her eyes, round and wide, shining like diamonds with unshed tears.

And then, nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

The first face he sees when he finally manages to break through the glass is Jackson.

The young doctor is pale, dark circles under his eyes, his smile wary as he checks his pupils, he talks slowly, it takes Bellamy a moment to understand his words over the incessant beeps of a machine, over the sudden onslaught of stimuli. His body feels too tight, the skin crawling and his limbs heavy, but, when he tries, his fingers move, and his head turns.

The room around him is blurry, the light too bright. Miller stands a few feet away, holding a semi-automatic rifle. The gun looks out of place in this new moon. If he even is on Alpha.

"How are you feeling?" asks Jackson in trig.

His hands and legs are restrained. “Tired.” His throat’s raw, his tongue heavy and dry. “What happened?”

Bellamy’s arms and legs are strapped down on a surgical chair, a black tube sneaks down a shiny metal pole down to the back of his left hand, it takes him a moment to understand it isn’t black, but full of nightblood.

"What do you remember?" asks Miller, his voice harsh and unforgiving.

The Spacekru leader thinks back to before the black void, to before being drowned and tossed around in the vast emptiness. His head hurts, memories are blurry, and it takes him a moment to remember Clarke. No, not Clarke, someone wearing her face.

“Josephine! Josephine has possessed Clarke!”

Jackson nods, unstrapping the restraints.

“She got Abby to turn you into a nightblood. You-“ he clears his throat.

"You have been a Prime for three weeks," finishes Miller. "Jordan, Jackson, and Raven used Gabriel's research to take out the chips and bring your consciousness back."

Bellamy feels a chill down his spine.

Three weeks?

It feels like he has spent years fighting the darkness.

“Where’s Octavia?” Did she come back? Why did he send her away?

“I am sorry.” He doesn't look sorry, he seems relieved.

Bellamy nods, swings his legs down from the surgical chair, and stops to rest. His limbs weigh half a ton and bend his back in half, squeeze his lungs. There still seems to be too little air around him. “What about the rest?”

"Clarke and Delilah are fine. Gaia is the next one in line for the procedure."

“Murphy, Raven, Emori and Echo?”

Miller's studying him carefully, probably trying to decipher if there's still some trace of a Prime inside him. Bellamy is glad, gods know what that Prime has done with his body. Jackson turns to clean his instruments. "They're fine," he mumbles. "Nate, why don't you accompany Bellamy to one of the rooms?"

The delinquent steps forward, puts a hand warm and comforting on his back, and the Spacekru leader leans into the contact without thinking. His body is on fire, skin tingling even from this small contact.

 _There’s something wrong_ , whispers a little voice in the back of his head. _Someone else should be here._

When he hops down from the surgical chair, the whole world tips dangerously to the left, and he has to lean heavily on Miller. Nobody comments on his shaking legs or on the way his hands' clam around the younger man's arm. Together they make their way out of the room, down a narrow corridor and into a bedroom. “You should get some rest,” says Miller, still studying him with narrowed eyes.

_Someone else should be here._

“Where’s my family?”

“I’ll tell them you’re back,” Miller says without looking at him.

The answer leaves him wrong-footed, but he isn’t sure why and his mind is muddy with the sudden onslaught of smells and colors and noises, by the time he’s managed to put his thoughts in order, the delinquent is already by the door. “What did I do?”

The younger man stops his hand on the door handle, shoulders tense. "It wasn't you."

Bellamy frowns, takes an unsure step towards him. “What does that mean?”

Miller looks unsure, shakes himself after a moment. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell the others.”

The sound of the lock is loud in the empty room.

The Spacekru leader collapses on the side of the bed, his heart beating harshly against his ribs. The whole building around him groans and creaks, something small chirps, the sun filtering through the window is too bright.

Bellamy is scared of closing his eyes and finding this is just a dream, that he's still trapped in nothingness. So he busies his hands with the blanket neatly folded at the foot of the bed. It's bright orange with brown geometrical filigrees stitched into it. There's a hole on the edge, and he picks at it mindlessly.

His hands shake slightly and the places Miller touch him tingle with the memory of human contact. Where is everyone? Why must he stay alone?

_Niron?_

His thoughts shy away from the darkness, skirting around the snippets he glimpsed: the body of a stranger pressed against his, his hands thumbing through the worn pages of a book, tracing the elegant curve of a trigger, the Prime Queen welcoming him into a room, Josephine with Clarke’s face smiling, Abby pouring over medical equipment, Madi crying, strapped to a chair.

He throws his mind back, past the darkness, back to-

To Josephine's mischievous smile as she bends over him with Clarke's face.

Bellamy remembers the surgical room attached to the crypt, he remembers being strapped there, unable to move, unable to breathe, his whole body betraying him over and over and the Primes discussing what to do to him.

He remembers them stabbing needles into him and making tests with his blood. Russell wasn’t on board with the whole situation, but Clarke – Josephine – spun him a tale he couldn’t resist. And they kept going, and he wanted to scream, wanted to fight, wanted _out, out, out, out, out!_

“Bellamy! Bell, breathe!”

He jumps back from the hands on his shoulders, he loses his footing, crashes against the side of the wall and knocks a side table to the ground.

“Bellamy, it’s me!”

Raven.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. It’s me. You’re safe.”

 _I am Josephine Lightbourne_.

He shudders. “How-? You aren’t-?”

"The Primes don't keep memories from their hosts. And I remember that the first thing I said to you was 'they're looking everywhere for you.'" She smiles. "Then you threatened to kill me, and I pulled a knife on you."

“Rae?”

She smiles and nods, offers her hand to help him stand up, behind her stands Emori, looking small and insecure.

“Where are Echo and Murphy?”

The two women exchange a look. “What happened? What did I do to Murphy?”

“ _You_ didn’t do anything.”

Bellamy can feel panic seizing his lungs once again, wringing his heart.

“Hey!” Emori’s voice is kind but strong enough to bring back from the edge. “John is fine, ok?”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Raven’s kindness is unsettling, but he obeys. “Jackson said you don’t remember anything since Josephine grabbed you?”

The Spacekru leader shakes his head no, too afraid of the memories lurking in the dark recesses of his mind. Raven and Emori exchange another look. Raven sits beside him, Emori plops down cross-legged on the floor near the bed. It’s such an _Emori thing_ , he feels himself relax slightly.

“Let me start at the beginning.”

Raven's voice is calm and kind. Raven is never kind, she's harsh and goes straight to the point. Still, he's glad that she's taking the time to recount how Emori and her spent three days studying the force-field, how they came back – excited with all the new knowledge and itching to start tinkering – when Murphy intercepted them and told then about Josephine, about how Bellamy had disappeared two days ago.

"Josephine wanted him to convince Abby to make more nightblood. Echo convinced him to do it. 'Play their game, and they'll trust you enough to lower their guard, give us enough time to snatch the nightblood for ourselves, and find Bellamy.' "

Bellamy feels a surge of pride at his partner. Nightblood would give them the advantage of not being trapped inside the dome, which would allow them to flee undetected and give them extra protection against radiation. And having Murphy playing the double agent was a perfect fit: Abby would think he was looking after his own skin like always.

"So, what went wrong?"

“Nothing. Josephine didn’t suspect a thing. She was too cocky, too arrogant. The problem was Prime Harry. Josephine put him inside you without telling anyone. That’s why we stayed, we needed to get you back.”

“Harry was a sadist, he enjoyed toying with us,” Emori shudders. "Sometimes, it was like talking to the real you. "

“I am sorry it took us so long to get you back.”

He can’t look at them. There’s something important they aren’t telling him, something _vital_ they’re keeping from him. Bellamy can see it lurking in the hollowness of Emori’s eyes and in the slump of Raven’s shoulders. He can hear it, buried deep in the huskiness of his right hand’s voice and in the wrap around the ex-con-woman’s left hand.

Still, he’s too cowardly to ask. So he sits there with his family, wrapping their presence around him like the softest blanket. And forces his mind away from the memory of a cock-sure smile slipping and of terrified caramel-colored eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and commenting


	3. Chapter 3

Sunset casts the room into terrifying darkness the small lamp on the bedside table can keep at bay. He cannot bring himself to stay still, to lay down on the bed or sit on the floor, too afraid he’ll lose control of his body again. So he paces. He walks the length of the room until he feels the walls closing in on him.

Was it always nine paces long? Has he lost his count? Is it now seven?

When he tries the door, it swings open without a problem.

He could have sworn the room was closed.

The hall beyond his door is dark and seems to stretch into infinity. At its very end, a tiny light illuminates the first steps of a staircase.

Bellamy slams the door shut and locks it to keep the darkness at bay.

 _Niron_?

He shudders at the memory of Echo’s voice.

_Where is she? Why hasn’t she come?_

The Spacekru leader tears his thoughts away from those questions. She’s fine. She’s probably keeping an eye on Murphy, making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.

_Like following Clarke out into that room?_

Bellamy takes a shuddering breath, turns his back to the door, and the darkness that lies beyond and walks the nine paces to the other end of the room.

His people are fine. Raven said so. Jackson and Miller said so, too. They're all fine, and there is a reason why he's been left alone in this room, why his mind keeps circling back to that beautiful word.

 _Niron_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting


	4. Chapter 4

Bellamy didn't expect the stairs to lead back to the bar where his people were first allowed to stay in Sanctum. Where Delilah's family offered them drink and food that wasn't disgusting algae sludge. Where Murphy lay on a table for hours, skirting the edges of death; where he tried cookies for the first time in his life. There, at that spot over there, he and Murphy made fun of Jordan for being so hung up on his one-night-stand. There's the place Echo told him about her parents' death. He played cards with Madi over here.

A glass explodes on the floor when he looks down, there's a shard beside his right foot, clear liquid darkening seeping into the hardwood floors.

“Bellamy?”

Murphy’s eyes are wide and scared and as full of hope and horror as his voice.

_What the Hell did I do to you?_

He nods his head, but the younger man doesn’t come closer, his eyes narrowed in mistrust.

“Prove it.”

He licks his lips, catches the way the young man searches his face with desperate hope.

“Back on the Ring, the first time you purposefully isolated yourself from the group was after a fight with Monty regarding Jasper." The man cocks his head, takes a tentative step forward. Bellamy remembers Echo saying _'Murphy is like a dog that's been beaten one too many times_ : _scared of being hurt again, but desperate for love_.' Bellamy has never seen a beaten dog, but the cautiousness and desperate hope in Murphy's demeanor speak volumes. "I went looking for you after you failed to come to dinner. You were crying, had punched a hand until two of your fingers broke. You told me that one of the reasons why you wanted to kill Jasper back when we found him was because he had been kind to you and you wanted him to stop suffering."

Murphy shakes from head to toe with such force, Bellamy fears he may break something. The next thing he knows, the younger man is wrapped around him, his arms tight, his fingers digging painfully into his back. Bellamy wraps his arms around him, when his hand goes to the end of his head, Murphy explodes in big ugly sobs that wrack his whole body from head to toe.

“I am sorry, Murphy.”

The man doesn’t answer, just keeps clutching him like his life depends on it and crying, loud and ugly and terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting :D


	5. Chapter 5

The trek towards the woods is silent and eerie. Murphy leads the way, shoulders hunched and head bowed. He's unusually quiet but for the odd sniffle here and there. Emori walks a few steps behind him, her hands tense like she's preparing to catch something thrown her way at any moment. Raven and Bellamy walk side by side.

Echo is nowhere to be found.

 _She went looking for Octavia,_ he tries to convince himself.

None of them bother with deactivating the radiation-field: they’re all black-blooded now. The trees rustle and creak around them. He loves the scent of wet dirt and flowers, the chirping of birds and bugs, the way the light of the two suns filters through the thick canopy. It reminds him so much of Earth, he wants to weep.

Bellamy isn’t sure where they are going. He hasn’t asked.

They reach a small clearing carpeted in ankle-high grass and white flowers. In the middle of which stands a twisted tree, raising high and wide, the trunk so thick the four of them wouldn't be able to surround it, its roots extend and twist all around the clearing, knotting and turning to create small shallow pools of rainwater and moss-covered seats. A four-winged bird lands on one of the tree's gnarly branches, the black of its feathers glinting in the noon light of the two suns with all the colors of the rainbow.

The tree's rough bark is covered in thick vines that hug their way all around it sculpting entrancing filigrees, sprouting red blooms here and there.

Murphy stops a few feet away from the tree, staring at the small vine-covered cocoon nestled between the tree’s roots.

Emori loos away and Raven twists her hands, but Bellamy is only marginally aware of them, his attention drawn to the tree.

He doesn’t want to see, but can’t stop his feet from drawing closer.

There’s a body inside the vines, lovingly laid out. If he could ignore the paleness of the skin, the way it’s pierced by the vines, the stillness of her breast, he could imagine she’s asleep.

_Niron?_

Bellamy’s knees hit the dirt, but he doesn’t notice.

Her hair is covered in dry leaves, there’s a fat caterpillar on her shoulder. The long lines of her hands are curved around the leather-wrapped pommel of her sword.

How? How is this possible?

Her skin is freezing cold, her lips parted like she just exhaled. Like she just stopped laughing and was trying to catch her breath.

"Prime Harry discovered she knew." Murphy's voice comes from very far away. "He decided to kill her."

Bellamy remembers. He remembers the smile she used when she's trying to play dumb and the feigned innocence in her questioning voice. She used it many times on the Ring when she felt playful. When she was covering for their people – lying about Murphy's fire bucket or the girl's prank-wars.

 _Niron_?

He remembers the weight of the gold-plated gun and the elegant curve of the trigger. He remembers her eyes: wide and round, how the light made their caramel depths looks like gold.

He can’t breathe.

“I killed her.”

“No!” says Raven.

“Yes,” growls Murphy, and the anger and pain in his voice sound like a shot.

**Author's Note:**

> This was not beta'd   
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting, you guys give me life.


End file.
